


Breathe.

by moonbaby11 (ushnuu)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7731895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ushnuu/pseuds/moonbaby11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sweaty palms. Dry throat. Beating heart. Turning stomach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe.

Sweaty palms. Dry throat. Beating heart. Turning stomach. 

  
For a moment Albus Potter thinks that he can’t breath - maybe he’ll never breathe properly again - but a comforting hand on his shoulder brings him crashing back down to reality, allowing him to centre himself in the room. 

His palms are still sweating, his throat is still dry, and his heart is still beating, but trivial things like that don’t matter when Scorpius Malfoy - his Scorpius Malfoy - is touching him. It’s been nearly three months and the novelty still hasn’t worn off. He’d thought that after a while he might adjust to what it feels like to have his boyfriend ( _boyfriend_ \- something else that still hasn’t lost it’s appeal after the three months) touch him in the most innocent of ways, but he still finds his heart rate increasing any time Scorpius rests a hand on his thigh or absentmindedly runs his fingers through Al’s dark hair.

“Hey, kiddo, you’re going to be _fine_ ,” Scorpius whispers, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. A part of Al hates that nickname - just because Scorpius is a year older, a December baby, he likes to rub it in Al’s face - but another part of him can’t help but grin every time Scorpius uses that name. It may be a bit of an annoyance but it’s _his_ name. No one else gets the honour of being called kiddo by Scorpius Malfoy. Al likes to relish in that fact. 

“You remember what Uncle Ron said to Rose when we started Hogwarts.”

Scorpius sighs, rolling his eyes. “Al. That was five years ago.”

“What if he still thinks it? What if he convinces Mum and Dad to disown me?” He’s starting to panic, he knows it. Maybe this was a terrible idea. Maybe Rosie was _wrong_. Maybe he never needs to tell his family. The two of them could elope - run off to Australia, or Russia, or Canada and live the rest of their lives out there. His parents would be none the wiser. He’d never have to face them, tell them the all to familiar last name of the boy he is in love with.

“Al. _Al_.” Smooth hands are on his shoulders. “Breathe.” Al nods his head in quick succession, sucking in a few deep breaths. Scorpius has always known how to calm him down. It’s how they met, actually. Always a people pleaser, Al had avoided Scorpius like the _plague_ for nearly five years. He was sure it was what his family would’ve wanted. Besides, they were in different houses and ran in different social circles. He’d never really had any need to befriend Scorpius Malfoy. 

All that had changed, however, late into fifth year. Al had been studying for one of his exams in the library - History of Magic, if he could recall correctly. Scorpius had been doing the same - he’s always claimed that he knows exactly what he was studying for; Care of Magical Creatures. After going through his notes and feeling as though he had retained _nothing_ the hyperventilating set in. Scorpius had run over to his table in five seconds flat, proceeding to calm him down. It had worked and, as cliché as it was to say, the rest had been history. They’d begun dating eight months later. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he repeats, nodding his head once more. Scorpius mirrors him, giving a small nod of his head, and kisses Al on the forehead. 

“We can do this,” he says softly. “ _You_ can do this.” Scorpius has already spoken to his mother about the situation. He hasn’t managed to tell his father yet, but his mother has given their relationship her blessing. While Al hasn’t had the chance to meet Astoria Malfoy yet, he believes he will like her. She seems to be a very understanding woman and he’s always admired people like that. 

A soft knock at the door causes them both to turn. It’s Hugo, messy red hair curling past his eyebrows. He desperately needs a haircut - both Rosie and Al have been trying to tell him for weeks now - but he refuses to ‘conform to the requirements of their reality’ or some crap like that. Hugo’s a bit of an oddball and he and Al have never been close until the past few months. “You guys decent in here?” Hugo asks, eyes covered. “I’ve been sitting in the hallway for ten minutes.” 

“Hugo,” Scorpius says, rolling his eyes. “You’re fine.” 

The younger boy cautiously removes a freckled hand from his face, large, brown eyes blinking as they look around his own bedroom. “Good. I figured since you guys were taking so long you must’ve-”

“Al’s just a little nervous,” Scorpius cuts in before Hugo can finish a sentence. 

“Oh.” He nods, understandably. Al smiles weakly. 

He’s thankful for Hugo, even if he can be a bit _dense_ sometimes. Scorpius is invited to their annual Easter celebration under the guise that he and Hugo have become good friends over the course of the term. They’re both in the same house, after all, so it is a realistic cover up. Scorpius had wanted to come on his own terms, not under any form of lie or deceit, but Al wouldn’t have it. The fact that his family - including Uncle Ron - had willingly taken Scorpius into their home was a bit of a comfort, but not enough to cause Al to drop all his anxieties about the situation. He wonders if Uncle Ron would’ve welcomed Scorpius so easily if it had been Rosie bringing him to the celebration, or if Hugo were attracted to men. _That_ is what worries him the most. 

“Well, Grandma’s about to put food out on the table. If you’re gonna talk to your parents you should probably do it now. If it makes things awkward that just means more ham for _me_.” He gives one of his toothy grins before stepping out of the room to return to his post outside the door. 

Scorpius turns to look at Al. “Hugo’s right, you know,” he says. “We should do this now. I don’t want to accidentally let something slip during dinner.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can, kiddo,” Scorpius reassures him, rubbing his boyfriend’s shoulders lightly. “I have full faith in you. You’ll be fine. Your parents will be fine and then we can all enjoy some ham.” As if on cue, the blond boy’s stomach lets out a soft growl. “See?” he says with a small chuckle. “I’m starving.”

“I don’t think I can stomach food.” 

Scorpius sighs. “Look, Al,” he says, leading his boyfriend over to Hugo’s bed and taking a seat, “If you don’t want to do this we don’t have to.” There is a brief pause. “But I really think that you should,” he continues. “Look, your Uncle Ron likes to tease. He didn’t mean what he said in first year.” 

“How do you know that?”

“And if he did,” Scorpius continues, ignoring Al’s question altogether, “He’s not your parents. Your Uncle Ron may not like it, but he’s not your mum or dad.” He pauses again, placing an arm around Al. “My dad has talked a lot about your dad. From what I’ve heard, your dad will get it. Your dad is a very understanding man.” 

Al sucks in a deep breathe, leaning in slightly to Scorpius’ side. “Are you sure?” he asks, his stomach slowly unknotting. He feels as though he can breathe a bit easier now, although the anxieties haven’t fully disappeared. 

“Positive,” Scorpius says with a nod. “Now come on, we should hurry.” He gets to his feet, extending a hand for Al.

The dark haired boy pauses, looking down at Scorpius’ hand and then glancing up into the boy’s grey eyes. “No,” he says, shaking his head. 

“Al, we just covered this-” 

“I want to do it by myself,” he says, getting to his feet. “I’ll take them to Aunt Hermione’s study. You can stand outside the door and, if things go well-”

“ _When_ things go well,” Scorpius cuts in, a single eyebrow raised.

Al ignores his interjection. “I’ll bring you in so we can all talk. If things don’t go well-”

“They won’t,” Scorpius tries to assure him. 

Once again, his words fall upon deaf ears. “I don’t want you to be subjected to any of it. I’ll take it all. You’ll probably hear if things don’t go well and that will be your cue to leave.” 

"Is this really what you want?” he asks, reaching forward to stroke Al’s hair. “You want to go in there alone?”

“I think I have to,” Al replies. “Hang outside with Hugo for a little bit while I go and talk with Mum and Dad. You can follow me in a couple minutes so they’re not fully expecting it.” 

Scorpius merely nods and soon the two are out of the room, Al absentmindedly playing with the strings on his hoodie, trying to find something - anything - to occupy his hands with. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, if his hands are busy his mind will focus more on that than on what he’s about to do. 

“Hey, Al,” Hugo says, grabbing his older cousin by the elbow. “Good luck, okay? Not that I think you’re gonna need it or anything but just because, you know, you _might_ need it.”

Scorpius lightly smacks the younger boy in the upper arm. “Not helping.” 

“Ah, right,” Hugo says, rubbing the back of his neck as a deep blush spreads across his cheeks. “Sorry ‘bout that Al. You don’t need luck. Everything will be _fiiiine_.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.” 

He sets off down the staircase. The walk from the second floor to the main floor of the Weasley-Granger house isn’t particularly long, but today it feels like a 5 kilometre marathon. Al is shocked when he finally finds himself standing at the bottom of the stairs, the noise of the house floating to his ears. He’d almost forgotten just how many people they had managed to cram into the home. For a while there it had felt as though he and Scorpius were the only two people in the whole house, perhaps even the whole world. That seemed to happen whenever Al found himself around the blond boy. Nothing else seemed to matter but Scorpius.

He doesn’t even remember beginning to walk. It feels as though he is on autopilot. His mind is rushing at crazy speeds, flitting from one worry to the next, and yet somehow he just keeps walking. It almost feels as though he is in a trance. His feet manage to carry him all the way to the living room where Uncle Ron, Aunt Audrey, Uncle Percy, Teddy, Victoire, and his parents are all seated. He tries as hard as he can to avoid eye contact with his Uncle Ron. He doesn’t want to look at him right now, not with the words he currently has perched upon his tongue. 

“Mum. Dad.” His mouth is dry as sand paper and he has to take a moment to swallow before he thinks he can breathe properly again. Ginny Potter is the first one to turn and she frowns at the look on her son’s face. Harry turns next and seems to be oblivious to the inner turmoil that is rolling through his youngest son’s mind. 

“What is it, Al?” his father asks. 

“Can I speak to you?” he says, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. He knows Victoire can be nosy and he doesn’t want to deal with any of the rest of them. At least, not yet. His dad nods, encouraging him to go again, but Al just shakes his head.  

“Alone?” his mum asks and this time Al nods. Ginny glances over at her husband and for a brief moment Al swears he sees a flicker of worry in his mother’s brown eyes.  

The couple rises from the couch and he leads them through the house to Aunt Hermione’s study, just as he’d told Scorpius and Hugo he would do. The room is empty, just as he’d assumed it would be, and since Aunt Hermione is the one hosting Easter this year he doubts she’ll have much time to escape from the kitchen and the watchful eye of Grandma Weasley.  

Al shuts the door behind his parents and takes a moment to close his eyes and just breathe. He tries to picture Scorpius’ hands on his shoulder and his smooth voice in his ear, reminding him to breathe and push all his worries from his mind. It helps about as well as it really can without his boyfriend physically there to assist him. 

“What’s this about, Al?” his mother asks as soon as his eyes are open. She’s always been understanding of his anxieties. She knows sometimes he just needs a moment to breathe. 

"Is something wrong?” Harry interjects. Al merely shake his head. They haven’t had a serious talk like this since second year when, after finally reaching the conclusion himself, he had announced to his family that he was bisexual. They had all smiled and welcomed his first boyfriend with open arms the next year. Of course, that boy had been a muggleborn. No relation to any of their old school friends, let alone relation to their school day rival. 

“I… I don’t know,” Al admits, reaching up for the strings of his hoodie once more. 

“Is there something you want to tell us?” Ginny asks, stepping forward. She’s always been able to read him well. “You know that you can tell us anything.” 

“Anything,” Harry agrees from behind his wife. 

Al nods and lets his green eyes flutter closed once more, sucking in a few deep breaths. “I’m… I’m d… I….” He can’t do it. Every time he comes close to forming the words his heart begins to hammer in his chest and his mouth completely dries up. It’s as if his body is telling him ‘Stop! This is a terrible idea! Just move to Canada!’. He wants to flee, run from the room and never look back. He’s probably embarrassing himself in front of his parents now. He probably looks like an idiot. “I can’t.” 

The sound of the door creaking open causes Al’s eyes to fly open. “Do you want me to do it?” He turns and there he is - Scorpius Malfoy, here to save the day, like always. 

“No, no,” Al insists, shaking his head. He wants to do this all himself. He has to do this all himself. Still, as he opens his mouth to say the words he finds himself freezing up again. His hands begin to shake, ever so slightly, and the next thing he knows Scorpius is across the room, arms wrapped around his boyfriend’s smaller frame. All he can focus on is Scorpius’ smooth skin and the feeling of his chest pressed against Al’s own. He takes a few moments to just take in deep breaths, momentarily inhaling Scorpius’ scent. He loves it. He’s not sure what, exactly, it is, but he does know that it is his favourite smell.  

“Al?” his father asks, stepping forward to join Ginny, closing the gap between the four of them. 

Al’s eyes widen as he quickly begins to realize the situation. He coughs, trying to think up an excuse as he tries to discretely push Scorpius away from him. The blond seems to catch the hint and takes a few steps backwards. 

“Dad,” he says, green eyes locking onto green eyes. “Mum,” he continues, gaze flitting over to his mother. “You, uh, you both know Scorpius M- Malfoy.” 

“Scorpius,” his father says, turning to recognize the boy with a nod.  

“Sir,” Scorpius, always the gentleman, replies with a nod.  

“Well, uh, we’re… We’re… He’s my…”  

“Boyfriend,” Scorpius cuts in, chancing a glance at Al. Al simply responds with a small smile. He may have wanted to do this alone but now he’s glad that he didn’t have to. He doubts he would’ve gotten through that without Scorpius’ help. 

“Uh, yeah,” Al says with a nod. 

Ginny and Harry turn to look at each other and the next few seconds pass like an eternity. Scorpius reaches out and grabs Al’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as the two just stare at his parents, waiting for a reaction.  

Finally they turn to look at the younger couple, smiles on their faces. Al lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

“May I formally introduce myself?” Al’s father says, stepping forward. “I’m Harry Potter.” He extends a hand and Scorpius takes it, shaking firmly. “And this is my wife, Ginny.” 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Scorpius,” Al’s mother says with a smile so soft that all of Al’s worries disappear within seconds. 

“It’s nice to meet you both as well,” Scorpius says with a confident smile, something Al has always admired about the boy.

“You’re… you’re okay with it.” It’s a statement, not a question seeking clarification. 

“Of course,” Ginny says, turning to face her son, her brows furrowed in a look of mild confusion. “You thought we wouldn’t be?”

“I… I don’t know,” Al admits, gaze shifting to his sneakers. “I thought… When Uncle Ron said… _You know_.” 

Ginny groans, causing Al to look up. “Ron,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “What have I told you, Harry? Sometimes he takes jokes _too_ _far_.”  

“Jokes?” Al questions, eyes wide. 

Harry takes another step forward, placing a hand on Al’s shoulder. It’s comforting in a different way than Scorpius’ touch. “Your Uncle Ron likes to joke about things like that. And yes, sometimes he takes things too far. We’ll talk to him after dinner, but I can assure you - he’ll be alright with the whole situation.” 

“Really?” Al asks, eyes wide and hopeful. 

“Really.” 

“I told you,” Scorpius whispers. Al wants to elbow him in the gut, tell him to keep quiet like he would if they weren’t standing before his parents right now, but he resists the urge. 

“So, Scorpius, I assume you’re not _really_ friends with my nephew?” Ginny asks, hands planted firmly on her hips and an eyebrow raised. 

“Well, no,” Scorpius admits, “But Hugo has been rather helpful through this whole… ordeal. He’s a great kid.”

“Sounds just like Hugo,” Harry agrees with a soft chuckle. Ginny nods her head in agreement. 

“Do I have to tell Grandma Weasley and everyone about Scorpius?” Al asks, glancing warily over at his boyfriend. 

“We can talk to everyone for you, if you’d prefer,” his mother offers.

“Yeah,” Al admits with a nod. He wants to do it himself but he knows his limits. It may be better if his parents handle all of it. If they’re right, which he’s starting to believe they might be, then he really has nothing to worry about. Everything will work out for the best. 

“Look, I think your grandma was putting food out on the table when I walked by. It’s probably time to go and eat,” Scorpius says with a smile.  

“Then what are we waiting for?” Ginny asks with a laugh. “That ham isn’t going to eat itself! And if we don’t hurry Hugo may eat all of it,” she adds. Scorpius laughs softly and the sound of it still manages to give Al butterflies in the pit of his stomach.  

The blond boy sets off through the study doors and Al’s mother follows him. Al makes a move to leave but is stopped by his father, who seems to be hanging back for the moment.

“Albus,” he says, resting a hand on his son’s shoulder, “I want you to know that you can tell your mother and I anything.”  

“Yeah, I know,” Al admits, eyes on his shoes once more.  

“The war was years ago. There may have been some tense feelings between Scorpius’ father and I when we were teenagers, but I think we’ve both matured since then. I don’t hold any contempt for Draco like I used to,” Harry explains. 

“Yeah, I know,” Al repeats. He’d known all along, deep down, but his worries had taken over his more logical side. 

“Does Scorpius make you happy?”  

Al finally looks up. He nods his head once. “Extremely.”  

“Then I wouldn’t care if he was the son of Voldemort. I just want you to be happy, okay?”  

Al nods again. A silence falls over them and Al takes that as his cue to leave the room. He turns to go but stops at the study doors, turning around to catch his father’s eye once more. “Thanks, Dad,” he says with a small smile planted firmly on his lips. Harry just nods and Al turns, making his way out of the study and heading towards the dining room.  

For the first time in a long time he feels as though he can just _breathe_.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written about a year and a half ago, so that joke about Scorpius being Voldemort's son is just a very beautiful coincidence.


End file.
